


Changing Owners

by Chereche



Series: Descendants Fanfics [7]
Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4595733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chereche/pseuds/Chereche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the events of King Ben's coronation, Fairy Godmother summons Mal for a conversation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You wanted to see me, Fairy Godmother?" Mal asked, entering her office.

"Come in child," the plump woman remarked cheerfully. "Have a seat, and a cookie. I've heard that you all are partial to chocolate?"

"Mostly the boys," Mal quipped with a laugh, although that didn't stop her from polishing off three.

The woman watched her tenderly before speaking. "I wanted to formally thank you for what you did at King Ben’s ceremony. Although, as you pointed out, you were partially responsible for instigating what Jane did," she stated, and Mal had to resist the urge to laugh when she waggled a scolding finger at her, "you helped things come to its natural and rightful conclusion, so, thank you. I'm glad you - and your friends - made the right decision."

"Thank you," Mal responded sincerely, ducking her head to hide her embarrassment. "We're not like our parents, and we shouldn't have to be."

"Indeed my child," she said, coming around the table before sitting on its edge. "I have a question for you Mal, a silly one really, but would you humour an old fairy?"

"Of course," Mal agreed, "what is it?"

"When you held the wand, my wand, what did you feel?"

Mal blinked, cocking her head curiously. "What did I…feel?"

"Did you feel anything at all?" she pressed, looking at her carefully, "an emotion, a feeling, anything?"

The purple haired witch thought for a moment. "I did," she responded slowly, "I felt...peace. As if I was at home, more so when I wasn't trying to decide if to run away with it," she said with a humorous laugh. "But that's all I really felt though, a peace and familiarity, as if the wand wouldn't hurt or do anything without me telling it to."

The older fairy, Mal saw, when she looked at her, had the strangest expression on her face. "What, have I said something wrong?" she asked.

That seemed to snap the woman out of her thoughts. She shook her head, laughed and stood. "Not at all, child," she reassured her, "what you said just intrigued me. In the years since that wand became mine, only five have held it. "You, your mother and Jane are three of those people. And you, it seems are the only one who have had such a...pleasant interaction."

"What have the others felt?" Mal asked, curious despite herself.

"You saw Jane's handling of it, yourself," she said dryly. "The wand rejected her immediately, more so when she actually tried to use it. Jane would have been hurt if the wand hadn't, on some level, felt the closeness of our blood and so, protected her from insanity. The wand, Mal, is not a hereditary right. It goes to whomever it feels is right to wield it."

"Mother held it," Mal recalled.

"And is not even an inch long now," the woman told her.

"You said she did it to herself."

"By touching the wand. It put a spell on her, a rather gradual one that she effected in the last moments of the battle. I have no clue what the spell the wand had cast would have done if things had gone differently, but the magic it imbued on her decided to use the power struggle between you two to its advantage and rendered her like that."

"Does that mean I'm cursed to?" Mal asked, pushing back in her chair, "is that what this is about?"

"Rest easy, child," she quickly reassured. "It is not. I am merely...curious. Humour an old fairy, won't you?"

Mal relaxed slightly. "For all I know it's just waiting to hex me," she said, gesturing to a closed closet.

Fairy Godmother eyed her carefully. "The wand is here?"

"Over there," Mal said, waving again in the closet's direction.

"Mal," she told her gently, "you do realise the door is closed."

Mal, only then, realised that fact. The woman rose and fetched the wand that was indeed in there, resting on a blue satin pillow with yellow tassels. She brought it over and resumed her former seat.

"How did I know that?" Mal inquired.

"How indeed," she said with a soft chuckled. She held it out, offering it to her.

Mal, hesitantly took it, twirling it in her hand even as that feeling of peace and warmth went through her again like a gentle caress. "It...looks different," she observed, turning it. "It's-"

"Mixed with lavender now," she finished. "It's been affected by you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"No Mal," she hushed, "this is not a bad thing. It's just...a sign I suppose. Before that wand belonged to me, it was gold you know. It took about five years before it fully transitioned to what it is now."

"What does that mean?"

Fairy Godmother looked at her fondly. "I think you are starting to figure that out, child. I am surprised, admittedly, but Maleficent is a fairy after all, and you do carry her blood and thus the ability for magic. For the wand to be stained by you of all people is very intriguing, but alas, perhaps this is what our time needs?" She stood, caressing the wand briefly as she passed before continuing. "Ben means to change things, just like his father did, and if things continue on their current path, I do not doubt that you will stand by his side as it all happens, both as his queen and as his counsel."

Mal's breath hitched.

"Ah child," Fairy Godmother said, turning back to look at her, "you realise now what I'm saying."

"The wand...the wand is mine?"

She nodded, "It will be," she told her, "when your lavender has nearly overridden my ivory blue, it will be the time for me to hand it over to you."

Mal's hands closed around the wand and she stared at it in a new light. "How is this possible?" she asked.

"The wand chooses who it chooses," she said with a shrug. "You were born from the evilest of them all Mal. I think that that leaves you with the opportunity to be the best good fairy of them all since you have lived the alternative. I don't doubt that, like King Ben, you'll make sweeping changes when the time comes for me to hand that over to you, and like his father, I look forward to seeing what you will do when that time comes. I think Auradon will have a lot to learn from you, Mal," she finished, standing in front of the large window, and looking out into the world beyond it. "I wonder what you'll choose to do?"


	2. Chapter 2

Mal didn't even realise where she headed once she had dismissed herself from the principal's office. She was lost in her own world of conflicted emotions, ignoring anyone who came in her path, even if they addressed her directly. She didn't care what they thought; less than two weeks ago they had all stood during that Family Day and condemned her and her friends. Just because she had supposedly saved them, they had started to admire and speak to her. She wanted no part of it, and, would have hexed each and every last one of them, if it wasn't for that fact that it would disappoint Ben.

Ben, she thought darkly, the reason she had gotten into this mess. She supposed that was why her feet had led her to him. His status as King had earned him an floor as his own dormitory; she and her friends had promptly laid claim to it, because, hey it wasn't as if they were _that_ good. Ben (rather wisely) seemed not to mind and actually at times seemed downright excited whenever one or all of them showed up. She was pretty certain therefore, as she waited for the elevator door to deposit here into his living area, someone would be there. She really didn’t need to be alone with her thoughts right about now.

Her friends weren’t present, but Ben was.

He was reclined on a deep blue sofa, a book in his hand. He had looked up as the doors had opened, a curious expression on his face as to which islander had come to see him since only them had been given the passwords to operate the elevator. She saw the way his countenance sort of glowed with pleasure as he saw her, but it quickly faded as he took in her expression.

"Mal?" he asked, concerned, getting up immediately.

"Don't you Mal me, Bennie-boo," she snapped, her eyes flashing green. "This is all your fault."

He froze, eyeing her in confusion for a moment before quickly crossing the room to her side. She struggled briefly as he reached for her, not wanting the distraction any affection he gave her would bring. It was the one most fatal weakness she had discussed in herself lately; the slightest show of genuine kindness thrown her way was enough to break down her barriers. Ben knew this, and at this moment, seemed determined to exploit it. He was strong though – obviously inheriting his father’s strength – and save cursing him, which she did not want to do, Mal had no way to resist when he slowly pulled her into his arms. She sagged the moment she felt his strong embrace, feeling her anger shift briefly to gratefulness that he had not spurred her once the spell had worn off.

“What’s my fault?” he asked calmly, and briefly she was annoyed by the levelness of his tone.

“You expect too much from me,” she said, pulling back to pummel his chest for a few seconds, feeling irritated when he didn’t even flinch. “Everyone expects too much from me and it’s not fair.”

“Oh Mal,” he breathed, and it was only then that she wondered at the sympathy in his tone. Why was that? It took her a few seconds to figure it out. That odd feeling on her cheeks was tears streaming down her face. And, it was as if they had just needed her acknowledgement because, suddenly her anger had morphed into something a bit more morose, and she was sobbing, burying her head against his shirt. She wasn't even conscious of the blubbering words that escaped her ever so often, garbled words about her mother, the fairy godmother, the world being cruel and wicked, and something about Ben himself that had his hands that had been soothingly rubbing her back briefly stilling.

Eventually, the storm within her abated, and her sobs turned into just quiet weeping.

Ben moved them, and Mal allowed it, deeply tired now. She stood pliant as he scooped her into his arms and easily crossed through his living room/entertainment area into his bedroom, where he carefully deposited her upon its centre. He sat beside her, and she could only look at him, exhausted by this odd catharsis.

He said nothing, only removing a handkerchief from his pocket before using it to dab at her wet cheeks. She moved to speak then, but he gently shushed her. "You have everyone worried," he murmured, and only then did she see her fellow islanders hovering worriedly in the bedroom doorway. She cringed internally at the thought that they had arrived to see her sobbing like a weak child. "I'll leave you to talk with them," he continued, gently pressing the now slightly damp handkerchief into her hand.

"Ben," she whispered, surprised that that shaky voice she was hearing was hers.

"You went to speak to Fairy Godmother, didn't you? I think I need to go speak with her myself."

He didn't give her the chance to respond to that. Swifter than she could process, he cupped her cheek for one precious moment before departing, trusting her friends to take care of her.

*

"Okay, who do I have to smash," Jay near-snarled as soon as Ben had vacated the room.

It seemed as if his exit was the only invitation they had needed. They sped across the room, joining her on the bed, Evie curling up besides her, fussing at the tears that would dry out her skin, while Jay sort of manhandled her, rougher than Ben, but in a gesture she was more accustomed to, pulling her up so that she was almost reclining on him while Carlos settled near her feet, just staring at her worriedly.

"What happened, M?" Evie inquired.

It took her three tries before she could actually utter the words. "The universe hates me."

"What?"

"Fairy Godmother," she said with slightly hysterical laugh, "thinks that I'm going to be her replacement one day."

There was a moment of silence after that before Jay snorted. "What juice is she drinking?"

"That's crazy," Carlos added, "replace _her_?"

"I know," she said, still chuckling, "she says that me, _Maleficent’s_ daughter, is her heir apparent to all that is good. I'm apparently going to change the world as Ben’s queen  all because her stupid wand is changing colours."

"You're going to be his queen?" Evie inquired, perking up.

"In her mind I am," Mal agreed, sniffing. "She's mad. I decided that I liked being good, but to actually be some sort of role model? No way."

"We’re rotten to the core," Jay murmured with a slight smirk.

"We chose good, guys," Carlos pointed out. "Beating Mal's dragon mother ringing a bell here?"

"It doesn't change who we are though," Jay shrugged. "I mean, think about it, we like the good life, it's admittedly a lot easier, but, you got to admit, it's also a bit boring at times. "

"It is," Mal agreed readily. "I wanted to curse everyone in the halls getting here."

"It's a process guys," Evie said, her words emerging in a sage like tone. "We've made our declarations, but now we have to live up to those words. It's not easy; we were raised to be bad; we're not going to give that up completely at a drop of a hat. It's a process and a struggle. Maybe that's why she said that, Mal. We - _you_ \- really depict the true battle."

"She's right," Carlos agreed, stuttering slightly when all eyes turned to him. "I mean, think about it. These kids have been brought up to be good in the same way we were brought up to be bad. What's the more noble path? Just obeying what you've been taught, or deciding for yourself what you want to do and taking that path. That seems the harder pathway to me.

"Besides," he added, "you - we - can make a change. We know the other side, we know the things they have no idea about. We know about being hungry, and being forced into doing things we may not have wanted to do. We see the things here that just don't make sense. If we speak up, if we do something, we can make a change for the better of all of us, and the children still on the island. I mean, we can't be the only ones who were bad at being truly bad. We can help them, we can help them all. I don't see this as being a bad thing Mal."

"I'm Maleficent's daughter Carlos," Mal snapped, although they all knew that she truly wasn't upset with him. "I-I'm not good enough. I'll _never_ be good enough."

"She thinks you are," Evie rebutted, "and that gorgeous wand thinks you are as well. You may not believe it now, but she's proven to be pretty right about us so far."

"I don't think I can do this guys," Mal admitted, "I don't even know if I want to."

"You have time to decide," Jay told her, "and I'll still crush anyone who tries to rush you in the mean time."

Mal sighed, not knowing what to say. She settled for the easiest response. "I'm tired," she murmured, and they all got the hint. Ben's bed was literally made for a king, and they all had no trouble comfortably fitting together on it as they settled down for a nap.

*

All in all, Mal slept for nearly three hours, something that worried Ben in itself. He had his previously discarded book on his lap, but now he was seated comfortably in an armchair near the  fireplace, his bedroom door cracked so that he could hear Mal in case she needed him. The other descendants had left nearly an hour before. He had returned from his impromptu meeting with the principal, considerably more relieved, only to be greeted by the adorable sight of the four of them, cuddled together in sleep. If he was pressed, he would admit that he had snapped a quick photo of the four of them, because, how could he resist it?

Finally, and just when he had started to wonder if he should wake her up just to make sure that she was okay, Mal stumbled from the bedroom, looking considerably more relaxed if slightly drowsy. Observing her, Ben had to resist the urge to snicker. Evie had mentioned that she had 'fixed' Mal up a bit, but it was only now that she dropped down into the chair across from him, that he realised that the blue-eyed teenager had added a hint of colour to Mal's cheeks as well as had outlined her eyes in a subtle but yet wholly intriguing way.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, when she said nothing. He gestured to across the room where a tray of mostly finger foods waited. She shook her head, something that was worrisome in itself, but she did allow him to pour her a glass of juice to sip at.

"I spoke to Fairy Godmother while you were sleeping," he informed her.

Mal's eyes flicked up from the cup, but otherwise, she gave no other indication of having heard him. "I wonder if you can tell me what made you so upset?"

Mal didn't say anything, instead content to make him wait while she finished her drink.

"I can't be a paragon of goodness and virtue," she said finally, setting aside the glass.

'You can be."

"You can't know that," she snapped, before visibly taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Look Ben, none of you guys can ever understand the life we live. You sympathise but in the end it's little more than a story for you all, but it was our lives. I'm not good; I couldn't be good. My mother made sure and removed every nuance of it from me. I helped someone while I was six. She locked me in my room for an entire day. I accepted help from the gnomes, she berated me for it and called me a failure. I spent my entire life trying to live up to her, and I failed at everything. Nothing I ever did was ever evil enough, and when you brought us here? I decided that I would get her that wand, and she'd surely love me then.

"You all think I'm good. I told you I wanted to be good. But I've been trying to be evil for sixteen years Ben and I failed at that. But I am not good. I have to try to be good in the same way I had to try to be evil and I know me Ben. I'll fail at that too and then what will you do with me? I can't be the next wand keeper. I can't be your queen. I'm not good enough. I'm not bad enough. Ben, I'm nobody."

Ben was silent throughout her tirade, although his heart ached at the raw pain in her voice. He longed to comfort her, but he knew that she would not accept it. Not now. Not yet.

"Do you think I'm a good king, Mal?" he asked instead.

His question startled her, and she stared at him. "Forget king for a moment. Did I even make a good prince?"

She nodded. "You've always been so good to us. You're a good prince, a good _king_ as far as I can see. You've been so kind and merciful...yes, yes you are a good king."

"I don't think I am," he admitted. "In the weeks before my coronation Mal, I doubted myself. Father kept throwing more and more responsibilities at me, and to me I failed dismally. Sometimes my parents agreed with that, sometimes they saw success where I saw none.

"I don't think I'm a good king Mal. Heck, I'm not even sure I'm an okay one. But people always say I'm great and that I'm doing such a wonderful job. I'm always questioning myself, wondering if I'm really doing right by my subjects."

"I've never seen that," she admitted.

"Because I hide it well," he told her with a wry smile. "But that's not what I want you to focus on. What I'm trying to tell you is that I don't think I'm worthy of this role I've been assigned sometimes. And, what I'm getting is that you don't think you're worthy either. But Mal, according to my mom, that's one of the best qualities a ruler can have."

"What?" she said, dumbfounded.

"It sounds weird right," he chuckled, "but, let me explain. Mother says that feeling inadequate, to a certain degree, forces you to work harder, to watch yourself more critically and to figure out if what you're doing truly benefits the people you're trying to help. Maybe you can take that advice for yourself. If you don't think you're intrinsically good, you can work harder towards that, and then gradually extend that outwards to those around you?"

Ben watched as Mal nipped her nip and looked away, musing on his words. He gave her the time and space, knowing that trying to get her to speak before she was ready would be pointless. He stood, bringing over the covered tray for her, offering her it with a gallant bow. She accepted it with a nod of thanks, chewing absentmindedly on a sandwich while she thought.

"Do you think I can do it?" she asked eventually.

"Do _you_ think you can do it?"

She shot him an annoyed glance, rolling her eyes. "I suppose I can give it a try."

"I suppose you can," he agreed, giving her a teasing grin, gratified when she returned it.

"I refuse to talk about the whole queen side of this," she said forcefully, and he laughed openly at that.

"That's a discussion way off in the future," he seconded, dropping back into his chair. "It is a future though that I will think about often."

His voice lowered into that deeper register that she absolutely adored. She lowered her eyes at the implications of his words, blushing.

"I know what I'm going to do first," she said suddenly, a mischievous grin crossing her face, “If I really become this new Fairy Godmother? We’re going to change that title by the way?”

"Oh? And what shall be your first act?"

"I'm going to change the royal colours. Purple and green are so much better, don’t you think?” She narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to argue.

He chuckled but didn't rise to the bait. Like he had said, these were discussions for the future; he had time before he had to actually worry about convincing her against it.

 


End file.
